Memories are pasted with the glue of love,
At least the memories to be cherished.
None are more imprinted,
Than those that have endured longer.
Wondering about the vagaries of life,
How one meets another is forever internalized.
So many I treasure for their gifts,
The gifts of intellect and love.
From time to time, meeting for lunch,
Brushing the landscape with flowers,
Of memories that hopefully endure,
For the Moment, it is a precious gift
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